Filthy Business

Brad is pretty typical of the type of degenerates who use my services. They all tend to be white-collar business types; men in their late thirties to early fifties; stressed to the max with their "str8" careers and "st8" lives with very little free time to indulge in their real fetishes. These suits are always watching the clock, always racing to appointments, but also anxious for sex and always living double lives; your typical American male masochist.

Walking sperm banks yacking on cellphones, balls bloated to overflowing always thinking about quick hot relief as they go about their "jobs". They're not young enough anymore for the waiting game in the bars or video arcades, but still young enough to be on the bone all day with no place to really get taken care of; by an experienced guy who knows how it feels and what they really need. Horny masochistic closet-cases that need to be treated like fucking dirt by an older sweaty man who will degrade them for an hour or two until get their nut. Around 40 when they've become more sophisticated in their sexual desires, it becomes apparant to guys like Brad they can easily satisfy there fetishes as they do everything else in life; by just paying for it.

Brad fits the bill perfectly. 39 years old, with a nagging wife and two thankless teens back in the burbs rotting in some over-priced house mortgaged to the hilt, while he travels 40 weeks of the year to pay for it all. But the travel also gives him the opportunity to prowl for strange cock to worship out of town where no one he knows will ever find out. These guys like Brad work hard all their lives and makes good money to support a lifestyle they're too busy to enjoy, are usually well respected in their communities and among their peers. Yes Brad, like so many of these guys, has made all the right moves that society expected of him. But the price he's paid is also typical; bigtime sexual repression, just seething with frustration that seems to become an obsession the older they get. That's where I come in.

Usually, about the time they start hitting 40, it drawns on blokes like Brad that time is running out to address their real needs as the perverts they are; time running out to fulfill the dark desires they've neglected in their single-minded quest for money and security. Around 40 there's no time left for the waiting games of youth; waiting for perfect idealized "clean" men with perfect teeth. They're too old and wise now to care so much about a man's personal hygiene as long as he's got a nasty hard stinking prick between his legs to force down a hungry cocksucker's throat just begging for cum. The filth of older disheveled men whom they sometimes pass on the street and whose strong masculine odor attracts them like a magnet becomes increasingly more seductive after 40 until they finally "give in" to their basic urge to become a body slave--if only temporarily--to such unwashed men. Guys like Brad aren't sexually secure because they've never been allowed to enjoy their natural scent--and that's where an older man like me holds alot of appeal for them. A man old enough to be their father maybe, whom they can believably still look up to--even at 40; a tough dirty older guy with a big unwashed prick and a foul mouth that they can worship on their knees and service from head to toe with REAL enthusiasm. Especially if the older guy is in shape still and sexually dominant. Yeah, the Brad's in this world find that irressistable.

Like all my clients Brad is basically transfixed by the odors of an unwashed older male body; his genitals in particular. My filth. The filth that only a man like myself who comes from trailer trash and who has worked in blue-collar jobs all his life acquires as second-nature. The kind of guy that wears the same jock and wife-beater for weeks on end. These corporate drone types like Brad have usually come from antiseptic conservative backgrounds, groomed from the cradle to be sanitized white-collar slaves in professional careers without ever having explored or enjoyed the bodily functions or odors that bond men to one another. A natural smelling man is a novelty for these guys. Shoving their heads under a hairy stinking pit really gets their deodorized nostrils flaring, their squeaky-clean yuppie pricks up fast. Guys like Brad come home when they stick their tongues into a nice musty unwashed asshole or under a cheesy foreskin; it really makes their day--or at least the lunch hour they can spare to molest a dirty guy like me--with their tongues and lips cleaning every part of me while I tell the fucking cocksuckers what disgusting creeps they really are.

Discretion is very important to these guys and I respect that. When Brad's in town he sets up an appointment with me beforehand, and I'll put on a jacket and tie if he's staying at a hotel so I can drop by his room without attracting undo attention. Once inside we get right down to biz because, as usual, Brad ain't got much time, and we both know the drill. Brad's got the money and I've got what he wants and needs; he can smell it as I undress. Brad is particularly fond of my filthy boot socks which I never seem to change until some fag buys them off me. There seem to be alot of these filthy foot fags around. Brad's favorite thing is to have me sit on the couch or edge of the bed in my dirty jock an' undershirt and let him sniff and lick on my dirty socks as I try to cram my feet--one at a time--into his mouth while he sucks the dirt from my socks and grovels for more. Sometimes I make him lick my dirty boots clean if we have extra time; he loves that too. Brad's big mouth is pretty much full or otherwise occupied during our filth sessions, so I give him a running commentary of verbal abuse on how he's doing as a bottom-feeding low-life cocksucking fag slave who needs to worship a real man like me. He's got a pretty good body for a white-collar fag--nothing terrific, but not out of shape either--he'd lose his job if it were. If the cocksucker is in fairly good condition I'll let him strip to his boxers and work on his meat for me while he wets down my socks with his sucking fag cunt-mouth. When it's foot cleaning time he pulls off the socks with his teeth, then pigs out on my dirty feet as I let him pry out the toejam packed under my long dirty yellow nails. Geeze that guy is a pig for that crud. Moving right along--and with Brad he's always got an eye on that clock--after he's cleaned my feet proper and gotten his fill of toejam down his pig throat and smeared some on his cunt face, then it's time to face-fuck the bastard.

First I tease him for a few minutes by letting him wipe his tongue and face all over my wide-band jock pouch, stinking, grimy and almost black from months or years of fag slobber plus my own cum and piss loads all caked into the slimy webbing. That man stench really gets his engine going and I make sure he gets his money's worth out of it, pushing that fag mouth of his down hard onto the pouch until his mouth is hooked onto my hard stinking prick underneath which is by now needing a good dirt-covered fag mouth to fuck into. Having done this many times Brad knows just how to kneel into the correct position between my legs so when I stand and grab him by the ears I've got the right leverage to pound the bastard's cunt face till he gags--sometimes thru the jock, sometimes with it off so he can get not only the full deep penetration of my prick down his cunt throat, but also the full force stench of my VERY thick and hairy crotch when his nose is buried in it. Alot of the appeal for guys like Brad is that the older guys tend to have more body hair, and have a thicker pubic bush which really holds the man stink they crave in better then a younger dude whose crotch hair tends to be much lighter. Being older means I don't pop off like a kid which means Brad can take his time until his own masochistic frenzy dictates when he wants to climax, which usually gives him a real good five or six minutes of face pounding before he creams himself. I make him eat it while I watch and jerk off on his fag face. Which is what he's paying for. If we have any extra time Brad sometimes asks to suck my thick hairy pits or otherwise clean me with his tongue, but usually we don't have time for too much of that. It's the dirty socks and prick that are the main meal for Brad.

Guys like Brad are instantly overcome with guilt after they shoot and quick to hop into the shower and smell sweet again, avoiding eye contact as much as possible until I take my money and leave. But I know I will hear from Brad soon enough when he's in town next time, filled to overflowing with pent-up desires from all the weeks he's been fantasizing about our next encounter when he can debase himself once again before a real man and once again become the cocksucking filth-loving degenerate he knows himself to be under that suit and tie.